The Answer
by Thalion Estel
Summary: Bucky is invited to a small Thanksgiving party, and on the way, he learns the answer to a question that has been bothering him for some time. A sequel to "There's Always Something". Post CA:TWS. No slash.
1. Kind Hospitality

**Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize (and seriously, do you need me to say that?).**

**Author's Note: To those of you who've been waiting, I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this out. Things became really busy, so I didn't finish when I wanted to. That and instead of this being one chapter, my muse demanded three. I will post the other two as soon as they are edited, and you can speed up that process by reviewing.**

**Before reading any further, please make sure you have read the first in this series, "There's Always Something", first. If you haven't, this won't make a lot of sense. I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 1: Kind Hospitality

Bucky walked slightly behind the jogger he had met only moments ago, feeling a strange sensation that had been absent from his mind for years. The joy of companionship. After being so lost in utter despair, the presence of a kind human being, one who was not sadistic or evil, cheered Bucky immensely. He finally felt safe.

The logical, calculating part of his brain was warning him that he had no reason at all to trust this man. Joshua. That might not even be his real name! For all Bucky knew, the man could be working for Hydra, luring him into a trap. But something inside of Bucky protested. The man's eyes were too genuine to be Hydra, and his words, contrary to any design of Hydra, had caused the Soldier to lose dominance in Bucky's mind. His own consciousness—the real Bucky—was back, and that was proof enough of something good.

Joshua led Bucky down the winding path of the green belt and eventually onto a city street. The morning sun's light was streaming between the tall buildings of downtown D.C., and its rays warmed Bucky's cold cheeks. He had been in the nearly freezing temperatures all night, and now he realized how much he had missed warmth.

Clouds were sparse in the sky, as was the traffic on the road. Bucky also noticed that there were few people walking on the sidewalk. At first he wondered at this, but then it occurred to him that most people were probably at home celebrating the holiday. He still couldn't remember much, but somehow it just seemed natural to people to stay home on holidays.

Joshua led Bucky for a few minutes before he stopped at the front of a small building that Bucky identified as a church by the cross-topped steeple. Joshua dug into his pocket and produced a key, which he used to unlock the double doors. He then opened them and showed Bucky through into what was obviously the sanctuary.

"I've got a couple rooms in the back," Joshua explained. "You can shower there and change into some clean clothes."

"You live in the church?" Bucky asked, daring to speak for the first time in a while.

"Yeah, I'm the associate pastor. Normally the senior pastor would have the parsonage, but since he's got his own place and I don't, the elders said I should stay here for the time being."

Bucky simply nodded as he followed Joshua to a hallway in the back. Here Joshua unlocked another door that led to a small, two-room apartment. Joshua closed the door behind Bucky and switched on the light, revealing a scantily furnished bedroom with a bathroom tacked on the side.

"I'll get you a shirt and jeans," Joshua said. "Take as long as you want."

The shower was so soothing and pleasant that Bucky was tempted to remain under the warm flow of water for hours on end. He scrubbed the grime off his neck and face, and he washed the grease from his hair. He used a washcloth to clean his metallic arm as best he could, and when at last he stepped out of the shower, he felt like he had undergone a rebirth.

The clean shirt and pants felt very good against Bucky's now unsoiled skin. Thankfully, the shirt was long-sleeved, and so most of the silver arm was covered. The problem of the exposed hand was still present, but Bucky opted to shove it in his pocket. This did look more awkward than it had when he'd worn the jacket, but he couldn't stand to put on that dirty thing again. Perhaps Joshua would give him some gloves if he asked anyway.

When Bucky exited the bathroom, Joshua was sitting on his bed, reading something on a tablet. At the presence of his guest, Joshua looked up his computer and smiled.

"Everything alright?" Bucky nodded profusely, earning a larger grin from Joshua. "Good. We've still got about an hour before we need to leave, so I figured you might want to go ahead and eat something. I've got snacks of various kinds in the cupboard: take whatever you want."

Bucky was very hungry, and feeling comfortable in the environment, he stepped over to the cupboard and foraged for some food. He could not remember the names of the items sitting on the shelf, but they did look familiar. He was glad that some of these foods seemed to be from his memory; maybe he would regain more knowledge of the past as time progressed.

When he had selected some food, he created a pile of various snacks on a paper towel and reentered the center of the room. He sat on a chair near the bed and ate what was on his lap, being careful to use only his right hand. He glanced up occasionally at Joshua, who seemed quite immersed in what he was reading.

"Sounds like some pretty big stuff has been going down on the other end of town," Joshua commented in a serious tone. "It's all over the news that some big government agency was seriously compromised, or something like that. There was a fight, too. Apparently there's a lot of wreckage in the river. I'm surprised I didn't hear about this yesterday."

Bucky tensed a little at the mention of the incident involving S.H.I.E.L.D., but he tried not to let it show. It would be no use trying to explain to Joshua everything that had happened. Bucky wasn't even sure he could carry on a normal conversation yet, not to mention tell the story that gave him shivers.

"Hey, even Captain America was involved in this battle!" Joshua exclaimed. "It must have been a big deal."

"You know Captain America?" Bucky asked, unable to mask his curiosity.

"Sure, doesn't everyone? Of course, I don't know him personally, but he's been pretty popular in the world lately. The whole alien invasion thing pretty much glued him into the spotlight."

"Is he alright?" Bucky pressed. Joshua raised an eyebrow, and Bucky immediately covered his own statement. "I heard that he was hurt."

"Hmm…" Joshua said, scanning the screen. "It says here that he was brought to a hospital with multiple gunshot wounds, but he is now in stable condition. I guess that's his super-ness at work."

Bucky felt a huge relief wash over him, and he went back to his snack. Steve was going to be alright. That was certainly good news. However, Bucky wondered what Steve would do when he was well enough to leave the hospital. No doubt that stubborn punk would be on his trail quicker than a bloodhound. And what then? What would he do when Steve found him?

"Do you want some sleep?" Joshua asked, standing up. "You could nap until it's time to go, if you're comfortable with that. You look tired."

Bucky hadn't thought much about sleep. He could not remember the last time he had truly slept, and the idea filled his mind with longing. Since he fell from the train in 1945, he had only managed to snatch a few dozes in between the terrible frozen slumbers found in the cryotube. With sleep on his mind, it seemed nothing his rational self told him was reason enough to refuse the offer. He nodded.

Joshua gestured to the bed, but Bucky refused that courtesy. He may not have known a lot about manners, but he knew that he could not ask such a level of hospitality from the man who had given him so much already. Instead, he opted for the couch, which was still very comfortable. Anything was better than a coffin of ice.

As he got into the perfect position, Bucky wondered for perhaps the tenth time since he came with Joshua why the man cared so much about a complete stranger. Joshua had not yet spoken on the matter, and Bucky's curiosity was growing greater all the time. Perhaps the answer would come at the park later on, after Bucky had rested and eaten. In fact, these kindnesses might even be a way to prove whatever point Joshua planned to make.

Bucky had, at first, intended to sleep lightly in case Joshua should try something, for even though he was becoming more laid back all the time, he could not turn his Winter Soldier self off completely. No matter what his intentions were, however, he soon fell into a very deep sleep, so deep that no nightmare of the past could creep in his mind to disturb him.

When he awoke, he felt himself greatly refreshed despite the brevity of his rest. He sat up and saw that Joshua was getting on his coat. When the man noticed that Bucky was awake, he smiled and walked toward the couch.

"I was just going to get you up. It's about time to leave."

Bucky nodded and stood. He stretched, but was again careful to hide his left hand. For the first time, he actually considered the cold, unfeeling metal that was his arm. It suddenly seemed so…inhuman. It was designed to make him a killing machine; a weapon. Anger flashed behind his eyes as he remembered Hydra and what they had done to him, but he did not let his feeling draw him from the present.

"May I use gloves?" he asked quietly, his head down.

"Sure!" Joshua answered, turning to a drawer and pulling out a pair of black gloves. Bucky prayed that they would be the right size, and slipping into the bathroom, he closed the door and put them on. It was a tight fit, but he did manage to get his left hand inside the glove. He took a brief glance in the mirror and smoothed down his brown hair. He could use a shave, and there was evidence of scratches on his face, but otherwise he looked fine. He was normal as he could appear.

After giving him a jacket, Joshua took him out of the apartment and through the church's exit, locking the doors behind him. When they got to the street, Joshua slowed his speed a little so that Bucky was forced to walk at his side rather than slightly behind. Joshua's joyful, kind face seemed to always contain a smile, and Bucky couldn't help but wonder about what made this man so content. Perhaps he had never endured true hardship, but Bucky did not think that was the case. He had something special, and it couldn't just be ignorance.

"Well, now that you've had some proper rest," Joshua said, "I will begin to address the question as best I can. But first, I have to talk about the Biblical reasons that we should be thankful. May I proceed?"

Bucky nodded eagerly. While Hydra had strictly opposed religion, Joshua's manner caused Bucky to doubt his training once again. If religion was a big lie, a coping mechanism for the weak, then why was it more effective than reality? Hydra's "reality" had caused Bucky to despair. There must be something more, and from the way Joshua lived, the jogger couldn't be far off.

"God created us," Joshua said, but his tone made the simple statement sound like a spectacular discovery. "He didn't have to, but He did. He gave us not only life, but a soul and a consciousness with which to enjoy things. He gave us a world to live in and have dominion over. He gave us access to Himself. He gave us companionship and the ability to love. He made us in His image, and many more wonderful things.

"But, we fell from our original state of innocence. That did not erase all these blessings, and in fact, it was a part of God's plan to show the depths of His love for us. When the first of our race sinned, we received a depraved nature. Human will is bent toward evil. As one of the greatest theologians, John Calvin, said, if God let our minds loose to all their desires, there would be no mistaking our innate evil.

"So, while all that sounds quite not-for-Thanksgiving, it is very important, so bear with me. In must be understood how wretched and sinful we are to even begin to comprehend God's graces to us as a fallen people. First of all, He has kept us from the wickedness we are capable of. His providence over humanity is sometimes staggering. Think of how long mankind has had nuclear power, and yet somehow we haven't destroyed ourselves. Not even half of ourselves. In fact, no terrorist has successfully used a nuke on anybody. That's amazing.

"There are a million different ways that God keeps bad people from carrying out bad intentions. Every second of every day has an instance in which God's sovereign hand saved someone. Every 'lucky coincidence' is actually a grace from God.

"God's greatest gift, however, came in the form of His Son. Now, the doctrine of the Trinity is far too complex for us to discuss while on a walk to the park when I have another purpose in mind, but feel free to ask me about it later. For now, just roll with me here. God is three Persons and yet one God. He is the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. God the Son took on the essence of humanity, not the sin nature, but everything else, and left His throne in heaven. He came down to earth and was born as a man, though He remained fully God. He lived a perfect life and died a terrible death for the sake of sinners. He allowed the wrath of God to fall on Him instead of us so that our debt owed to God might be cancelled. He atoned for our evil. Then He rose from the dead, and His righteousness can be imputed to those who believe.

"God's gift of salvation is available to all, though our sin prevents us from coming. So God extends further grace and draws His children to Himself. Goodness, how great is His love!"

Joshua was beaming so widely that it looked like his smile would split his face in half. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and while Bucky could tell that the man knew all of these facts by heart, Joshua acted like this was glorious truth that he was uncovering for the first time. That made it much harder to write off anything that Joshua said.

"Let me give a brief rundown of God's grace to worthless sinners," Joshua said, recovering himself a little. "He lived for us. He died for us. He justifies us. He purifies us. He calls us. He protects us. He guides us. He grants us inheritance with His Son. He gives us the Holy Spirit. The Son intercedes on our behalf. He hears our prayers. He gives us the Church with which to fellowship. He gives us suffering to produce perseverance, character, and hope."

"Suffering is a gift?" Bucky blurted out, astounded. He had hardly dared to speak up, but that last comment seemed ridiculous. Clearly if Joshua had ever suffered, it had not been severe.

"James 1:2-4 says we should 'Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing'. Suffering is in itself a completely different conversation, which I would be more than happy to have, but not yet. I haven't gotten to the 'why I care' part of this whole deal yet."

"But do you know suffering?" Bucky pressed. The way he asked it was not simply a question of if Joshua had suffered, but if Joshua _knew_ suffering. Had he ever truly been hurt? One could not just go around claiming that suffering was nice and good if they hadn't really experienced it. Or at least they couldn't convince Bucky of any such thing.

Joshua's expression sobered a little, and for a moment he did not answer. Bucky knew that the associate pastor had probably been prepared for such a question, but perhaps it was still difficult to answer. That would definitely be true if Joshua had no experience with suffering. At last, the jogger raised his face and looked ahead, smiling slightly, but not as joyfully as before.

"Depends on what you call suffering. Physically I have never endured real suffering, I admit that readily. I broke my arm when I was in fourth grade, but that's it. Emotionally…I've had a decent share of trials. One, actually, but it was the hardest thing I've ever gone through. I lost my wife and son about a year ago. They were killed by a drunk driver in a car accident while I was out of town, and the grief of the incident was very hard for me to deal with. Anger and hatred were in my thoughts, and they would have turned to bitterness without the help of my faithful brothers. Eventually I was able to do the right thing: accept God's will, move on, and forgive the man who wronged me."

"The drunk driver?" Bucky asked in shock. "_Why_?"

"Ah," Joshua said, grinning much more brightly. "Now we come to the question: why do I care? Well, I care because of Christ! Because of what He did for me, even when I had wronged Him first. Because I would want someone else to help me, were I in need. Because every person is my brother. Because the Bible commands me to help others. But more than anything else, I want my life to be the proof of His love. It's not to say there aren't other proofs, but I think sometimes that a living example is the most powerful. Let my life be the proof of His love."

The last line was said softly, almost as if Joshua were reminding himself of the truth as much as telling Bucky of it. With that sentence, the conversation came to an end as all that needed to be said had already been discussed. Bucky mulled over everything he had been told, which was quite a lot, as the two continued to walk down the sidewalk. So many things he had never considered, such crazy ideas that refused to be refuted. Bucky wondered what light the fellowship would shed on Joshua's statements. Fortunately, he did not have to wait long to find out.

**Well, what'd ya think? I hope I gave The Answer to The Question fairly well, and if anyone thinks I left something important out, be sure to let me know! And guys, PLEASE leave me some reviews. I cannot express in words how happy feedback makes me!**


	2. The Thanksgiving Fellowship

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in updating! My time was rapidly consumed with work, school, the SAT, and other things. So, here's chapter two! I hope y'all like it. And guys…reviews. C'mon! My dear friend CrackinAndProudOfIt is the only one (so far) who's been kind enough to send me some feedback! Thank you, Crackers! You're a wonderful role model to us all *glares at lazy readers*. Seriously, I am so glad you guys are reading my story, but I really would like some reviews. Please?!**

Chapter 2: The Thanksgiving Fellowship

The sidewalk soon led Joshua and Bucky to the same park they had exited earlier that morning, and Joshua guided Bucky down a particular trail toward a concrete pavilion. It was about noon, and the skies were blue and open. It was truly a great day to be outside, and thanks to Joshua's discussion of beauty, Bucky found that he could enjoy it.

"Listen," Joshua said, stopping momentarily as they neared the small edifice. "You don't need to feel compelled to do anything. No one here is expecting you to be anything but yourself. If you don't want to talk, you don't have to. There'll be food, and you don't have to ask to have some. Have all you'd like! I bet someone will find a way to get football on, and there might be some games; don't hesitate to join right in. You're a guest!"

With those words, Joshua began walking again, not without some clear eagerness in his stride. It was then that Bucky really thought about the situation and what it meant to Joshua personally. The man undoubtedly knew everyone who would be present well. In fact, they were probably his friends. Bucky hoped he would not be an inconvenience to anyone; his tentative plan was to be a shadow, causing no disruptions whatsoever.

Finally, they entered the pavilion. Joshua was warmly greeted by several people who had been busying about the area. The smell of cooking meat made Bucky's mouth water, and after he had politely shaken hands with those to whom he was quickly introduced, he turned his attention to the source of the scent. A large grill was laden with hot dogs, chicken, brisket, and even turkey. It was difficult for Bucky to tear his gaze away.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" a voice said. Bucky glanced to his side to see a middle aged man smiling at him. The man had a cooking utensil in his hand, and he appeared to be the one fixing the meat. "It'll be ready in about fifteen minutes," he reassured. "Most of the other guys are watching the game, if you'd like to join them."

It seemed like the appropriate thing to do, so Bucky nodded and walked over to the area where a projector was being hooked up to a laptop to display a football game onto a wall. As a few teenage boys fumbled with the electronics, Bucky took in his surroundings with more detail. It was a moderately sized pavilion with iron benches and a large, wall-like pillar in each or the four corners. A row of tables was set up with a long cloth draped over the whole line, and several platters were covered in foil and sitting in the center of the tables.

There were about thirty people total milling around the pavilion, some tending to food, and some gathering around the projector. A few were engaged in small discussions. Joshua was one of these, but he looked up from his conversation and smiled at Bucky as a way of affirming his statement about Bucky being a guest.

"There," one of the teens said, clapping his hands together and sighing contentedly. "I told you this old projector would work."

"I never said it wouldn't," the other countered playfully. "But I _do_ say that the Cowboys are going to lose this game."

A loud humph drew the attention of both the boys and Bucky. A young woman, who Bucky could not imagine was older than eighteen, was sitting with her arms defiantly crossed and her nose high in the air, though a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, come on!" the boy exclaimed with a laugh. "Are you still routing for those guys?"

"Yes, and my hope will not go unfulfilled for long," she said. "You'll see someday."

"Um, your hope is not worth much as long as Romo is quarterback."

"I've got two words for you: DeMarco Murray."

"A team's more than one player."

"Which is why we can still win even with Romo. Besides, he's not so bad when he's not injured."

"Which is…never."

With those words, the boy deliberately dropped the remote he was holding and pretended to chase it all over the floor. The other young man and the girl both burst out in laughter, and Bucky found that he wanted to smile too, even though he didn't get the joke. The people within earshot joined in the merriment, and the others pressed forward to learn what was so funny.

"Fumble!" yelled the boy who was not trying to act out the football player. "Well folks," he said in a mock-commentator voice, "Romo has allowed yet _another_ turn over for Dallas. What's that, now? I lost count when they lost their thousandths fumble last week."

The giggling eventually died down as everyone sat down and began to pay attention to the football game. Bucky looked intently at the game for the first time, and it awakened several memories, though he got the impression that football had been different when he had watched it last. Still, he knew he had seen it before, and that he had liked it.

"You like football?" the girl asked as she walked past Bucky and sat near him on a bench, staring at the game, but listening for a reply.

"Yeah," he answered. "A little. I don't really know much about it, though."

"Well, just ask me if you've got any questions," she replied, grinning proudly. "I've been obsessed since I was five."

It was quiet for a moment, but it seemed the girl wanted to draw up at least some sort of discussion. Finally, she glanced up from the game and looked over the stranger that her associate pastor had brought to the Thanksgiving celebration.

"I'm originally from Texas," she said. "That's why I always route for the Cowboys. I used to live really close to their stadium, which they'll probably show at the next commercial break. The team is, well, sort of terrible. This year they're doing better, but they haven't been truly good in a while. Tony Romo, the quarter back, has become rather a joke, even back in Texas itself. Too many fumbles and interceptions. Hence the act so gracefully portrayed but moments ago." She nodded in the direction of the boys, who were too busy teasing each other to notice their being mentioned.

The football game went on with growing tension until the food was ready. Throughout this time, Bucky was busy observing both the game itself, picking up the rules and facts about the teams, and the people, watching their interactions and general attitude. Despite his not knowing anyone personally, he found himself comfortable in their company. They were quite friendly, and it seemed that even when they were at odds, something that happened frequently concerning the game, they never grew angry. Everything was always said with either humility or, if it was a younger person, fake pride.

At last, the food was ready. Joshua led the group in prayer, and then a line formed beside the tables. Bucky loaded a Styrofoam plate full of both meat and various sides and then went back to the game. He sat down on a bench and eagerly scarfed down the meal while trying to remain inconspicuous as he did so. Occasionally he glanced up from his plate when the group would make some exclamation about a good play or a bad call, but for a long time, his attention was focused on his food. He had not eaten so much since…he could not remember. It tasted so wonderful that description failed him, and he went back for seconds and thirds.

The early afternoon hours passed by quickly, and eventually football game drew to a close. As predicted, the Cowboys lost, but even the girl who had routed for them hardly seemed moved by their failure. When asked about this, she simply shrugged and smiled.

"This year, I am afraid I'm used to my sports teams doing less than well," the girl sighed. "But I warn you: next year will be different!"

With the game over, the entire group assembled in the middle of the pavilion, and Joshua called for quiet. He smiled and then addressed the group in a loud voice so that all could hear.

"Thank you all for coming: I hope you've had fun so far. Before we all break up into groups again, I'd like to talk briefly about what Thanksgiving means to us. This isn't a sermon: I promise," he added quickly, eyeing the smaller children who had started to grimace. "I just thought we could go over the age-old tradition and each say what we're thankful for. Anyone who wants to can simply join in."

Bucky listened silently while person after person spoke up and told about something for which they were thankful. The answers ranged from physical necessities to family to some of the Christian ideas that Joshua had already spoken of. As the group continued to verbally voice its gratitude, Bucky became even more aware of the joy that seemed to flow in the veins of everyone present. This must be the proof that Joshua had mentioned. The proof of God's love. Bucky could not deny that it was very convincing.

After the tradition was done and Joshua had dismissed the group, he walked over to Bucky with his typical smile. Bucky found that he was able to manage a grin in response, something that he knew in the back of his mind was monumental.

"Has it been alright?" Joshua asked. "I'm sorry I didn't come over to the game; I've been catching up with some guys I haven't talked to in a while."

"It's been good," Bucky said. "Especially the food."

Joshua laughed, and Bucky's grin grew into almost a full-fledged smile. "Well, I must admit that getting together with these families is one of my favorite things to do. And among them are some good cooks, so it's a win-win."

Both men smiled again, and Joshua turned his gaze toward the others, who were beginning to organize a game of charades. "Friendship is such a valuable gift."

Bucky's smile disappeared as those words sunk in. His thoughts had been distracted from Steve as so many other events and conversations had occurred, and now he began to ponder what he was supposed to do about that situation. Should he go and find Steve? That seemed right, but with his being a wanted assassin, it might not even be possible. But did it really matter whether or not it was possible?

Joshua walked over to the charades area and sat down to watch the game, throwing in his own guesses occasionally. Bucky sat beside him, and although he understood few of the references, he did enjoy watching people act. The game of charades led to other games, and the fellowship lasted into the late afternoon. Bucky still felt comfortable in the group's presence, but Steve's face never left his thoughts.

Finally, at about five o'clock, the group disbanded. Now unrest was really increasing in Bucky's mind as he contemplated his next move. If he'd learned anything about Joshua, the man would probably offer him hospitality for the night. But Bucky was now very concerned about Steve, and although he trusted Joshua, he didn't want to get the man involved in the S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra mess. It could jeopardize the associate pastor's safety.

"We should probably be heading back," Joshua said to Bucky when had wished the last person goodbye. "Do you need me to get you somewhere, or would you like to stay at my place for a while? If you need a place to stay, then you can just—"

"No, thank you," Bucky said, suddenly straightening as he felt true resolve for the first time in several days. "I know where I need to go."

Joshua raised his eyebrows, but he did not protest. His eyes stared into Bucky's as if he were reading him, analyzing his motives and intentions. At last, he simply grinned and nodded.

"You want me to get you wherever you're going? I can call a taxi."

Bucky shook his head. "No; I can walk."

"You want me to go with you?" Joshua persisted.

Bucky actually entertained the idea for a few seconds, but in the end he shook his head. "I've got to do this alone."

"Well," Joshua sighed, "so be it. Come to the church any time you need something: the door will always be open to you."

"Joshua," Bucky said slowly as the man was about to turn away. "Thank you."

The two words were simple, but Bucky's tone and expression revealed how much he meant by them. Joshua smiled and surprised Bucky by giving him a brief but warm hug. When he pulled back, he beamed and looked his guest over one last time.

"My pleasure," he said sincerely. "Happy Thanksgiving, Bucky."

Bucky smiled, a genuine, normal smile, and began to walk away. It wasn't until he was almost out of sight of the pavilion that he realized he was still wearing the clothes Joshua had given him. The man undoubtedly knew when he left that Bucky still had them, but he had let him go anyway. Joshua was the biggest puzzle Bucky had ever encountered. He was willing to forgive a murderer, give his own possessions to a stranger, and love a God he couldn't see. And he was the happiest person Bucky had ever observed. The proof was almost overwhelming.

**So, what'd you think? This little fellowship is loosely based on what my church does sometimes, though of course we are not located anywhere near the D.C. area. Hey, did anybody notice that I had a cameo in there? Yep, that Cowboys fan was me. I couldn't resist the opportunity to meet Bucky AND talk about football at the same time! Speaking of which, I mean no disrespect to Romo! Tony, if you're reading this, I think you're a great quarterback; it's just that, well, there are so many really funny jokes about you (true or not) that I couldn't stop myself from including one.**

**Anyway, please leave me a review! There's just one chapter to go, and in it we'll finally get to meet Steve!**

**P.S. Updated Author's Note: As an extra comment, one with the foresight to see how the year ended, I can say that the Cowboys shocked all their fans after that terrible game against the eagles. As a matter of fact, they didn't loose again until they'd made it into the playoffs. They finished the season tied for the best record in the NFL, and they even won a postseason game at the last second. Thanks for a great season, guys!**


	3. Grateful for a Friend

**Author's Note: Okay, here's the end of it! I know it's short, but when I split it up into three chapters, this was just how it came out. I hope you guys like it; please review!**

Chapter 3: Grateful for a Friend

Steve let a long sigh escape his lips as the last guest of the evening left. He had thoroughly enjoyed the visitors, but he was glad to finally be alone. Bucky had been in the back of his mind all day, and now he had the opportunity to think actively about his friend.

"You don't need to worry yourself about anything right now," Bruce had said when he stopped by. "Just rest and get better; you can deal with all your problems later."

Indeed, Steve had been distracted from such worrying all day. Bruce had come first, and shortly after came Sam and Natasha. Tony had arrived at about noon, smuggling in some real Thanksgiving food for Steve. It had been very good. Clint had come last, and when he got there, the team had watched some football on the hospital TV. The other Avengers had gladly filled Cap in on all the "new rules" of the sport, as Steve thought of them, and the time had passed quickly. Everyone except Tony left during the afternoon, but Stark couldn't be convinced to depart until Steve had eaten his dinner and assured his only guest that he would be fine by himself.

The hospital lights seemed glaringly bright now that the sun had set, and Steve reached his hand over to the small control box lying on the bed and used it to dim the room's interior. It was only then that he realized how tired he was. He allowed his eyes to close and his breathing to slow as he dozed, but he did not stop thinking about the ways he would begin searching for Bucky once he left the hospital.

Steve suddenly stirred and looked around. He had fallen asleep, he knew, but something had awoken him. At first glance, he could see nothing out of place. It was still dark outside, the room appeared undisturbed, and he didn't detect any movement, though he admitted to himself that his senses were less than precise in his current condition.

Finally, he felt a small bit of cold on his cheek, and turning to look at the window more closely, he saw that it was pushed closed, but not latched. Someone must have opened it in the past few minutes, allowing a chilly draft to enter. This realization put Steve on high alert as he suspiciously scanned the room again. Then, from the shadow of a concealed corner, a familiar figure stepped into view.

A tidal wave of emotion smote Steve as he looked into Bucky's ice blue eyes. Those eyes were not the same as they had been on the Helicarrier, though. They had a spark of hope flickering behind them, and there was something else, too. That same presence that had been there back when they were kids in Brooklyn.

"Bucky?" Steve asked in disbelief. He briefly wondered how Bucky had found him, but this pondering left his mind very quickly. First of all, Bucky was a trained assassin, and he could probably find information easily without being seen. Secondly, the manner by which Bucky came was unimportant. Bucky's presence alone was a priceless gift.

Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, and he shut it again. His eyes moistened, and his face contorted into a grimace, as if he was in pain. He parted his lips again and sucked in a shaky breath, but he forced his eyes to meet Steve's gaze.

"Steve," he said uneasily. He took a step forward, but then hesitated. "Steve, I . . ."

Bucky didn't know what to say. A tear slipped across his cheek, and his eyes dropped. What was he supposed to do? He chided himself for not having this planned out, but that wouldn't do anything to fix the situation. Fortunately, his friend seemed to read his mind.

"It's okay, Bucky," Steve said soothingly. "You don't need say anything. I don't know what all they did to you or what you've been told, but it's going to be alright now. I promise."

Looking into Steve's genuine, selfless eyes, Bucky couldn't help but believe what his friend had said. He dared to take a step forward, and then then he couldn't stop himself. He quickly strode to the hospital bed's side crashed to his knees, sobbing with his head resting on the white sheets. He felt Steve's warm hand on his shoulder, and he smiled in spite of himself. Looking up at Steve's face, tears streaking down his cheeks, he laughed for the first time in over seventy years.

"You didn't think you could leave me behind, did you?" Bucky chuckled. Then, in a voice so quiet that Steve could barely hear him, he added, "Little punk."

Steve cried and laughed with his friend, memories of their childhood filling his mind as he stared into Bucky's face. He had longed and wept for that face so many times, and now it was before him once again.

"I've never been so grateful to have my friend with me," Steve commented, leaning back. "My brother," he added, looking again at Bucky. "Thanksgiving has never been so full of blessing."

"You don't know the half of it," Bucky said, still smiling.

**Thank you guys so much for reading! Feedback always makes me very happy, so if you'd like to brighten someone's day with just a few taps on a keyboard, here's your chance. **

**Also, I'd just like to say that sometime in the somewhat near future (hopefully), I will be posting a long Silmarillion fic, so anyone who's interested in that should be on the lookout. And I have a plan (only in my head at this point) for a huge Avengers story, along with a pretty cool series that travels through many various fandoms. If any of that sounds like something you'd like to read, there's this convenient little button that allows you to get emails when I post something. It's called **_**following**_** me. I am not making any demands: I am simply letting you know about the wonderful advances of technology.**

**Anyway, thanks so much for reading! And remember to be thankful for the friends you have; friendship is a beautiful gift, and no one can know how long they'll have it. Love 'em while you can!**


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